


Homo Homini Lupus

by lowsywriter



Series: Athelnar Therapy [1]
Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, M/M, Mates, Slow Burn, Werewolf Mates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-06
Updated: 2016-06-24
Packaged: 2018-03-29 09:16:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3890863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lowsywriter/pseuds/lowsywriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Athelstan is a reluctant hunter, Ragnar is a new alpha and when they met it's an unexpected conflagration that leaves a scorched path in their trail.</p>
<p>Or: the werewolf au no one asked for</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. prologue

**Author's Note:**

> i have no beta reader so any mistakes are mine, chop chop!

Ragnar wakes up with electricity in his blood without knowing why. It’s like the feeling he gets during the full moon, only, multiplied by ten. He spars hard with Rollo and runs in full wolf form in the woods but he still feels uneasy, like he is too big for his skin. Being the alpha means all his strong moods are felt by the pack, so he can read discomfort in his pack mates the whole day and he knows is his fault but he can’t really control it.

Well, at least they have plans for tonight; plans that involve destroying the hunter cell trying to settle in his territory. His fangs drop unprompted and he howls, suddenly excited and in his heart he knows there’s something waiting for him; it must be.

***

Becoming a hunter of the supernatural never was in Athelstan’s life project. He wanted to go to university and study, to get a normal job, to lead a normal life. But hunting is the family business and he must do as his father and his grandfather before him, the way it has been _per_ _saecula_ _saeculorum_. It doesn’t matter that his father was murdered by one of the creatures he was chasing or that his mother is now crazy, detached from reality thanks to all the nightmares came to life in this line of work. He is obligated by a hateful code and by the blood running in his veins, the last of the true hunter race. The sole remaining heir of Van Helsing.

He’s ruminating about his destiny, thorn between running away and fulfilling his fate when Aethelwulf calls him and Athelstan scoffs a little because he finds it really ironic the fact that a fanatic hunter who has swear to destroy all the werewolves in  his path has by cognomen _noble wolf_.

It seems that Ecbert needs his advice, again (and by advice he’s sure Ecbert means he needs for Athelstan to stand behind him during his meeting and look pretty as he exposes his new plan to the counsel). He stands hastily from his bunk and follows Aethelwulf, the latter talking already about exterminating the pack the scouts discovered in their last stake out. Athelstan sighs and looks heavenwards praying for a way out.

***

The pack is waiting for the guards by the hunters’ safe house to change shifts before attacking. As Lagertha and the agilest of the werewolves lead half the hunters’ numbers in a merry chase by the woods farther north, Ragnar and Rollo and all the others are going to attack their lair. If the seer prediction comes to end Ragnar will find what he has been chasing all his life, a treasure so great it has been waiting for him since before he was born. And if the information Leif gathered about the hunters is right, they will catch the hunters’ most valuable asset.

The itch under Ragnar’s skin turns into a thrumming and he howls to announce his pack mates is time to attack.   


	2. chapter one: in the day when everything happened

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here it is, the first official chapter of Homo Homini Lupus.
> 
> for all of you that suscribed, kudoed and commented: THANK YOU and i'm horribly sorry it taked so long but i'm done with this semester at last and my last month was nightmarish, to say the least. thank you for being so patient and for encouraging me to keep writing this story.
> 
> the name of the story comes from a roman adage, later coined by Hobbes and it means (more or less) "man is a wolf to [his fellow] man". i want to apologize for my spotty latin, it has been years since i've practiced (from when i was still in law school) and i never use it a lot outside of specific alocutions used in law so feel free to correct me or bludgeon me with a gramatica.
> 
> same goes with my english (as i'm not a native speaker) and i'm in need of a beta reader, so any mistakes are mine.
> 
> and last, i want to recommend you a song to listen as you read this chapter. it's called Lobo Hombre en Paris by La Unión, but please listen to Andrea Echeverri and The Mills cover, it's awesome (there's a link in the chapter, enjoy!)
> 
> chop chop!

**_[lobo hombre en paris](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0uuso0N1os0) _ **

Athelstan hears the howl and it’s like he has touched a live wire. All around him there’s chaos and fear but he feels suddenly excited, his heart beating a rapid steady pulse like a chant.  There’s something inside him telling him to stay right where he is because _theyarecomingtheyareneartheyareyours._  And there’s a hunger at the pit of his belly that has nothing to do with food.

One of his assigned bodyguards -one thing Ecbert insists on, because Athelstan is his most valuable asset- tries to pull him out of his room but Athelstan fights him teeth and nails and at the end the hunter tires and decides to run (towards the battle outside or just runs away, Athelstan doesn’t know) and Athelstan sits on his bed, waiting for his destiny.

***

When they fall upon their unsuspecting enemies there’s a minute of chaos and fear before the well-trained hunters start fighting back. And Ragnar is so extremely excited because it’s better this way, when they have to fight and the energy running wild in his veins burns with extenuating exercise. He has left three hunters on the floor already, and he hasn’t even crossed the door of their safe house, he hasn’t even turned into his beta form. His very human hands are dripping red, almost black in the weak moonlight. Near him, he can hear his pack mates growling and grunting as the battle progresses, most of them are transformed, their monstrous snouts soaked with saliva and blood. Rollo is covering his back, still human but his eyes are shining golden and there are bodies piling at his feet.

Five minutes later the hunter’s vanguard is death or mortally wounded and from what he can hear, there are only a few left inside the house, almost all of them on the second floor as if they are guarding something.

He smirks, knowing his treasure is waiting for him inside.

***

After what seems like hours but has really being ten minutes at most everything gets quiet. Athelstan can hear some of the hunters outside his room and he’s surprised they hadn’t fled while they could, _is he that important?_ He scoffs just thinking of the absurdity of it. Just because he’s the last descendant of the first hunter of monsters doesn’t make his life more significant than those of his minders. He doesn’t even want to be part of the fight they’re fighting.

Aethelwulf asked him once if his parents’ defeasance in the hands of monsters is not enough motivation for wanting to destroy all their kind. He had shrugged at the time, tired and uninterested and he still fails to see how more blood and destruction can lead to anything but despair. In reality, he doesn’t feel anything toward werewolves and other creatures of the night because in his life he hasn’t meet any of them, he doesn’t feel empathy nor hatred simply because he doesn’t _know_ them.

He feels repulsed by unnecessary violence and other activities hunters feel keen of, and he’s fortunate Ecbert never forced him to participate of their raids.

Outside, he listens as the door is destroyed and feet stomp the mostly empty halls. They are coming.

Athelstan smiles.   

***

Ragnar waits as the others force the door open. He calls Lagertha to let her know they won’t be long; her joyous laughter as she runs is tinny through the mobile, but she assures him her squad is all safe and the hunters chasing them haven’t notice it’s all a snare. He hangs up as the door yields, hundred of splinters flying everywhere. Floki and Poruun go first, seeing that they are the pack scouts, with keen noses and reliable sense of direction. They explore the first floor for any traps or leftover hunters and find none. Apparently, they didn’t presume the pact would come and they were under prepared. They do find a cellar full of guns and dried wolfbane in clear vials. He puts Torstein in charge of destroying the guns and taking the wolfbane.

When it’s clear there’s nothing in their way Ragnar steps inside the house and his nose immediately picks on the most delicious scent he has ever smelled. It smells like ozone and the metallic tag of blood and honeysuckle and _mine_ and his fangs drop as he starts salivating. The scent is coming from the second floor and he starts making his way up without thinking.

There are four men in the hallway of the second floor but he is not aware of anything but getting to the source of the scent. He hears Rollo screaming after him as if underwater, faraway and indistinct and he keeps going. The hunters try to get on his way and he growls, something animalistic driving him to destroy anything in between him and his treasure, and he’s not entirely sure how but finally all the interfering men are dead and there’s only a door separating him of what he has been craving all his life without knowing.     

***

The door creaks open and Athelstan is still seating on the bed. He feels clammy and sweaty and his voice is barely a whisper when he asks “who’s there?”

And suddenly, there’s a massive werewolf pining him to the bed. He knows it’s a werewolf even though he’s in his human form because his eyes are an otherworldly red and long fangs protruding from his mouth and the grip he has on Athelstan is too strong for a human. The werewolf is growling something under his breath, his face is wild and there’s blood everywhere over him, and his breath is hot and wet when he shoves his face against Athelstan throat, snuffling and purring with contentment.

Athelstan feels weirdly relaxed, even when he knows there are deathly fangs very near important arteries and a bloodlust beast that could rip his throat out with his teeth in a blinking of an eye nuzzling against him like an oversized cat.

When the werewolf notices he’s not struggling or putting up a fight he lets go of Athelstan wrists and starts roaming his hands over his body, his nose never leaving Athelstan throat. Athelstan thinks whatever the beast is mumbling sounds important but he can’t be sure, and everywhere their skin is touching is on fire. There’s a blissful feeling filling his chest and he is half hard with excitement.

Someone clears his throat and the werewolf over him growls loudly, his body tense and ready for a fight. There’s a chuckle coming from the doorway and a shooing sound as people walk away until there’s only a massive brunet with a long beard and fierce eyes standing inside the room with Athelstan and the werewolf over him.

“Ragnar, stop playing with the food;” he says with a gruff voice “Lagertha called to let us know the rest of the hunter party is on his way back, it looks like someone alerted them.”

“not. food.” The werewolf, Ragnar, answers while he tries to shield Athelstan with his body from the other man’s view “ _mate._ ”

“Oh shit!” the man in the doorway says.

_Oh shit_ , thinks Athelstan as Ragnar starts licking his neck.


	3. like a lunatic's endless dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i suck, i know
> 
> please enjoy these teaser of a chapter, i have decided to make all chapters short bc i'll probably update more that way
> 
> (still no beta reader)
> 
> chop chop

"Well, then" says Rollo, bouncing back from the shock quickly "we still have to hurry up and go... it's not safe, and you're made more vulnerable now you found your mate."

"I must protect him," growls Ragnar "no one will touch my mate."

"I have a name, you know?" voices Athelstan, a little annoyed about being talked about like he's not in the room "I'm Athelstan and I'll be very grateful if you get off of me, you're really heavy."

Ragnar whines, but he reluctantly obeys and when Athelstan sits down, he gets as close as he can without sitting on his lap.  Athelstan offers him a soft smile and a hand, and he holds onto it and turns to acknowledge his brother.

"What do you suggest we do, Rollo?"

"We should leave before the hunters arrive and get to our safe house to plan further."

"Are you taking me with you?" Athelstan asks, surprising both werewolves.

Ragnar immediately picks him up and puts him on his lap, holding him tight enough to give him bruises. There's a low snarl coming from his throat and his eyes burn blood red. Rollo rolls his eyes at the display, snorting and Athelstan sighs wearily.

He looks his mate straight in the eyes as he speaks "I  _want_  to go with you, there's something inside me that tells me I have to go wherever you go. I just am not familiar with what the protocol for werewolf mates is. And I’m very sure that half the things Ecbert ‘knows’ about your people is a load of bull."

When he finishes, he looks uncertain and hopeful and a little confused by his own responses.  Ragnar is too, he thought that mates were something of a legend. Werewolf-y fairytales. But what he’s feeling, what his mind and body and heart are telling him, it’s that they belong together. It’s probably harder for Athelstan, who’s human and can’t tell how right they smell together, and whose instincts aren’t as strong.

Ragnar stands up, picking Athelstan up like a bride and makes a gesture to Rollo to walk before them.  Athelstan makes a noise of protest, but he already knows is in vain, so he buries his face in his mate's chest in embarrassment and holds on for the ride.

When they get to the first floor they are received with wolf whistles (heh) and catcalls; and if the idea about werewolves’ supersenses is true, then everyone heard he’s their alpha’s mate. This isn’t the way he saw himself leaving the hunters behind but it’ll do. And he must admit that it feels nice being this close to the alpha, even if he’s aware it’s the bond talking.

Athelstan decides to look around and get himself acquaintance with his mate pack, but as soon as he faces to small crowd someone gasps.

“That’s Van Helsing’s heir!”

And all hell breaks loose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come and rant at me in tumblr at inmisericorde (and prompt me at fictionhomo)


	4. fortune is laughing at you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know, i'm very very sorry
> 
> i am the worst
> 
> (as always, no beta, english is not my first language, etc.)

Athelstan has to admit he knew this was going to happen.  First, because the universe seems to be holding a grudge against him for whatever reason and his bad luck isn’t gonna stop just because he found his literal _destiny_ ; and second, because if the pack was aware of their location, it means they’ve probably been keeping an eye on the hunters for quite some time and are aware of all the important facts.  Unfortunately for Athelstan, he is an important fact if anything Ecbert preaches about is to be believed.

In the moment of chaos he’s pleased to notice that even though he has assumed a fighting stance, Ragnar hasn’t let go of him and that’s a relieve.  The conditions are not ideal but he has an opportunity to run away from his wretched life and, if the feeling nestled under his breastbone is true, he’ll find happiness beside Ragnar.

And he has to admit to himself, the situation is kind of hilarious.  No one is fighting, there’s not one snout or fang in sight, not even a hairy ear, and most of the tension is posturing and growling which is less effective when all of them are wearing their human faces.

He pats Ragnar’s cheek fondly and asks him to be released.

***

“Ragnar, please” whispers his mate with a beseeching look in his pretty blue eyes “I understand how you feel, but I need to be able to face your pack on my own if you want me to belong.”

He reluctantly puts him down on his feet but keeps an arm around his midriff; he’s not ready to be further than this from his treasure.   Also, having touched Athelstan everywhere he recognizes that his delicate appearance is deceiving.  Sure, he is lithe and very human, but his body is toned and he smells strongly of gunpowder and the aseptic smell of powerful _seith_.  Just suspecting the full power his treasure possesses makes Ragnar salivate.  He gets a strong mate in a beautiful package, what else can he ask from the gods?

“Okay, everyone, calm down,” Athelstan says and he sounds hard as steel without raising his voice “I am, in fact, Van Helsing last heir.  Did I choose to be? No.  Do I want to keep his legacy? Again, no.”

“The mate bond doesn’t run one way, either, I crave for your alpha as much as he craves for me and I’d do nothing to hurt him.  I cannot, the nature of our bond feels queasy just thinking about it…”

“As if we trust a _skitne jeger_ ’s word,” snapped Floki, his wild eyes annoyed and assessing.

“I’ve never hunted anything or anyone in my life; I’ve been basically Ecbert’s hostage my whole life.  Did you think I had a choice in the matter? I was born a Van Helsing! Everything that goes bump in the night wants a go at me since before I was born!”

That makes his pack to go quiet and still.  Athelstan heartbeat is loud but steady and that means he was telling the absolute true.  It doesn’t lessen the point that he’s heir to the father of all hunters but his pack mates aren’t unsympathetic.

That’s when Erik intervenes, his dependable personality shinning true “We must give him the benefit of doubt; he is but one human against the most powerful pack of werewolves.  Our Alpha and his second are both descendants of Fenrir, the wolf that’ll bring Ragnarök, and their lineage is strong and growing steady. We shall see what the norns have planned for us all in its own time; but we cannot stay here and let the hunters catch us when we are all at odds with each other.  Let’s seek home and rest and wait for our alpha’s mate to be proven friend or foe.”

The pack seems to settle at his word and everyone starts to run into the forest and towards refuge.  Floki lingers a little while more, but at the end there’s only Ragnar and Athelstan and Erik and Rollo.

“Thank you, err…” whispers Athelstan, tired but reassured.

“Erik”

“Erik, I hope I can become your friend someday, and to return your kindness.”

“Fear not, _liten katt_ , I know Odin’s favor is with you this day, for you have found your destiny and he has found you, and who am I to stand against his wisdom.  We are now kin and will be comrades in no time at all, I’m sure.”

“Again, thank you.”

Erik looks up at Ragnar and nods, before running into the dark.  Ragnar smiles satisfied and picks Athelstan up again, elated and brimming with energy.

“Brother, go home and relax for the night, we will meet tomorrow to plan our next step.  The hunters need to regroup and rest before they can do nothing at all.”

Rollo gives him a smarmy smirk but walks away without complain.

Athelstan looks at him with barely hidden suspicion but says nothing as he takes them to the closest safe place.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm always up for prompts and ranting about my otps at fictionhomo (and inmisericorde) on tumblr

**Author's Note:**

> look me up at tumblr as fictionhomo (or inmisericorde)


End file.
